


To Build a Home

by maggspags



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-19 16:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maggspags/pseuds/maggspags
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snapshots of Cas and Dean's domestic life. Includes shopping for furniture and baking pies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One must acquire furniture

"What about this one?" Cas asked, plopping down on a dark green couch that looked quite plush. "It's pretty comfortable."

"It's green." Dean said, standing a few feet away and crossing his arms, a skeptical look on his face.

Cas stood up frowning playfully. "Yeah, so it matches your eyes." He leaned in and gave Dean a quick kiss, drawing a smile. "But if you really don't like it we can keep looking."

Dean looked at the couch again and tried to picture it in their small living room. He tried to imagine the life they could build around that couch. Watching the games on Sunday with Sammy. Opening presents on Christmas morning, paper and bows strewn all around it. He tried to see the two of them laying down for a quiet night in for a movie or a television show (perhaps even showing Cas Dr. Sexy). The more he thought about it the better the picture become.

Suddenly he saw it all. The relaxing nights, and the silly fights. Falling asleep on his lap, running his fingers through his hair. The cushion that the dog would destroy and he would have to sew back up. The messes that kids would make while trying to eat and watch their cartoons. A good life, a better life. Suddenly it was all there in front of him, all existing around that damn green couch, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

"Dean?" Cas' voice brought him back and he found himself sitting in the middle of the couch. Cas was standing over him, his hand on his shoulder. "What do you think?"

"It's great Cas, but I don't know if I'm ready to commit."

"It's a couch not a dog." Cas muttered, stepping away.

"How about this, we ask them to keep this one on hold while we go check out one more store, I just want to make sure that we get the right one." Dean reasoned.

"Alright, I'll go talk to the sales lady. We should really try to find the perfect one, we are trying to build a home after all." He added before walking towards the young sale associate. Dean ran his hand over the cushion just one more time. It was soft and welcoming. Cas' words played over in his head. Building a home that seemed like such a strange concept for a man who spent the majority of his life not really knowing a true home. The road had always been where he lived, and he hadn't needed anything else. He stood up, taking one more glance at the couch and then turned to Cas and he thought about why he was doing this, and how ready he was to finally come home.


	2. One must clean up after themselves.

"I did them last time." Dean protested as Cas tried to hand him the sponge.

"No, you did them a week ago. I did them twice since then." Cas countered, leaning against the counter, clearly not yielding his position. "It is your turn to do the dishes."

"But, you are better at them than me. You know how to get those weird little stains off the plates better than I do."

"You just scrub harder." Cas sighed, rolling his eyes. "Here, I'll start the water for you." He turned around and turned on the sink, filling the basin with sudsy water. Dean moved forward and snaked his arms around Cas' hips, nuzzling himself into the crook of his neck.

"I know what you are trying to do, and it isn't going to work." Dean could feel the vocal chords vibrating as he kissed the most tender spots.

"You really think this isn't going to work." Dean asked between kisses, moving his hands lower and pulling Cas closer. He could feel him leaning back and believed for a moment that his evil plan was working. "See I told yo-" Suddenly he had a face full of suds. "Dammit Cas." He said, laughing and reaching towards the sink, flicking a handful of bubbles towards him.

"I told you it wouldn't work." Cas teased, dodging the bubbles Dean was haphazardly tossing his way. Then reaching in and grabbing a handful and rubbing into his hair.

"You really want to play this game?" Dean threatened, grabbing a handful of suds and chasing him around the kitchen a few times. They were laughing and sliding around the slick floor in front of the sink. Dean couldn't remember having this much fun in a long time, and Cas couldn't remember having this much fun, ever. Finally Dean grabbed Cas' arm and pulled him close, mashing his handful of suds into his thick hair.

"Now we are even." Dean said, wiping some of the bubbles out of his eyes, laughing.

"And now you have to do the dishes." Cas said tenderly wiping the remaining bubbles of Dean's face. He leaned in close. "And when you are finished maybe we can continue what you tried to start." He kissed him quickly on the cheek and placed the sponge on his head.

"You tease." Dean muttered as the sponge slid off and landed with a plop on the counter in front of him.


	3. One must purchase clothing.

Dean flipped carelessly through a newspaper waiting for Cas to emerge from the dressing room. He was barely paying attention to an article about turkeys going crazy one town over when he heard Cas cough to get his attention. 

“What do you think?” Cas asked, holding his hands out in an awkward way as if he thought it better showed off the clothes. Dean choked back a laugh, he was dressed in a pair of jeans, a tee-shirt, and a flannel, and he looked just like Sam or himself. It wasn’t that he looked bad, it was just that he looked just like a Winchester. “No good?” Cas asked, looking crestfallen. 

“No, no. It’s not that, it’s just that I’m fairly sure I have that very shirt.” Dean said, it felt weird seeing Cas without his trenchcoat or always askew blue tie. 

“You do, that is why I picked this one, and you clearly like it since you wear it at least twice a week.” Dean was taken aback by how much attention Cas seemed to pay to the details. 

“If you want to borrow my clothes Cas you can just ask.”

“Why would I borrow your clothes when I can get clothes of my own?” Dean just shook his head. “I don’t understand why you want my opinion anyway.” 

“Dean I’ve been wearing the same outfit for years, I’m not quite sure what works and what doesn’t I’m not with-it as they say.” Cas snarked, complete with air quotes around ‘with-it’

“And I am?” Dean laughed, standing up. Cas just looked at him. “Alright, if you really want my opinion,” He got closer, fiddling with the collar of his shirt, “I say screw the clothes, you don’t need them in bed.”

“Tempting, but not helpful.” Cas said, and Dean instantly recognized the tone and knew it was hopeless.

“These look nice on you I suppose.” He began imagining taking the clothes off later. 

“Okay, then I’ll get these.” Cas said, stepping to go back and try on the next set of clothes he had picked out. Dean stopped him and pulled him towards him by the collar. “Dean, we are in public.” Suddenly Dean didn’t care who saw, and he pulled Cas towards him and kissed him. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, but suddenly the only thing he wanted to do was make out with Cas in the middle of a thrift store. It wasn’t until a very stern looking woman tapped him on the shoulder that they stopped. 

“Sorry m’am.” He muttered, finally letting go of Cas and smiling sheepishly at him. “Just got a bit carried away.” She did not look like she cared much as she went back to the counter shaking her head.

Cas was standing just staring at Dean. “What was that for?” 

Dean shrugged, heading back to his seat and his newspaper. He wasn’t really sure what it was for, all he knew that he wanted to be done shopping so he could go home and take all the new clothes off and really have some fun.


	4. One must kiss and make up

“You can’t be serious?” Dean heard himself shouting as Cas stormed off towards the bedroom. “You are actually going to answer their call? Just go flying back to Heaven because some two-bit angel asked for help?”

“What would you have me do Dean, just ignore my brothers and sisters? Ignore my family?” Cas snapped back, not glancing behind him as he walked around the room, looking for a purpose.

“Your family? Seriously, you think those people give a shit about you?” Dean said, he could feel the anger just pulsing through his veins. Cas stopped moving. He turned to look a Dean and that is when he saw it. The flash of anger and   
rage, the warrior for God that normally lay dormant under the surface, almost bubbling over. “All I’m saying is that, where were they when we were stopping the apocalypse? Oh right, starting it. Where were they when you were fighting off the leviathan? Where were they all those times you needed them? Have they ever come through in a pinch? That ain’t family Cas, I don’t care what you think.” 

Cas’ breathing was calm yet his face was twisted. “Just because they weren’t there for me doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be there for them.” Dean crossed his arms, he suddenly was remembering physics, when he went, something about immovable objects and unstoppable forces. This was going to be a long night. He could see Cas’ point, but that didn’t mean he thought it was a good idea for him to go back to Heaven. 

“I guess I’m just not understanding how one little random angel-radio call can get you to drop everything and report for duty like a fucking lap dog.” 

“It wasn’t a random call Dean, it was a specific message meant for me to hear. They need my help.”

“What if it is a trap?”

“Set by whom? We haven’t hunted for years.”

“Doesn’t mean we didn’t make enemies along the way. Just don’t go.” Dean was going to stand his ground. “It’s ridiculous.”

“It’s ridiculous that I want to be there for my family, the way you’d drop everything if Sam called right now and said he was in trouble.” 

“That is different, it’s Sammy.” 

“How is it any different Dean? He is your brother, you were raised together, you fought together, and you went through life together. He is the one person that you will protect with everything you have, even if it means your life. These angels that you say abandoned me; those are my brothers and sisters. They were who I was raised with, who I fought with. That is why I have to go. I have to protect my family, even if they won’t protect me.” Cas stepped forward, tentatively, as though testing the waters. Dean was staring at the ground, his arms crossed. Cas walked towards him, leaning down to meet his eye line and placing his hand under his chin, tilting his head back up. “You are the one who taught me how important family is.”

“They just shouldn’t be doing this to you; it just isn’t your fight anymore.” Dean muttered, dropping his arms. Cas looked at him, tilting his head to the side like he used to. “I don’t want you to go.” Dean was able to whisper.   
Cas leaned his head forward so their foreheads were touching. “I promise you I will come back, and if I have to fight there is something that I will be fighting for, getting back home to you.” 

“You better.” Dean tried to take him all in. He smelled faintly of the air right before a storm. His skin was warm against his own as he pressed their lips together. He had always felt they fit together to well, like their bodies were made to meld into one. It was a perfect moment, the two of them pressed against each other, Dean saying “I’m sorry” with each kiss and Cas saying goodbye with his. Then the moment was over and Dean opened his eyes to an empty apartment and it was almost too much to bear.


	5. One must learn to bake

He could smell it, something was burning. The stench felt wrong as it seemed to encase him completely, drawing him away from the paper he had been reading. “Shit.” He ran towards the kitchen, waving his hands in the air trying to get rid of the smoke, not sure what to do first. He turned off the oven and grabbed the burnt pie, dropping it on the counter and then running to open the windows. 

He took a moment to breathe and he turned to look at the disaster in front of him. “Shit.” The pie was black and failed to resemble what it actually was. Cas, unsure of what to do with the remains of his first attempt turned towards the fridge to see how many apples he had left, apparently it takes more than one try to get it right. 

-

This time he stood in the kitchen, watching the oven like a hawk. The burnt pie still sat on the counter where he had left it. He was using it as a reminder of his failure and a motivator to get it right this time. There were two minutes left on the timer when he heard Dean come in the door. 

“Hello?” Dean’s voice echoed through the hallway. 

“In here.” Cas called, walking towards the door and peeking his head out. He had been in heaven for a week, of course time moved much slower up there so it felt like months. Dean turned and saw him standing there and a smile erupted on his face. 

He didn’t say anything, just strode over and took Cas into his arms. It was good to be home. “Why didn’t you call?” Dean asked, pulling back and looking at him with a puzzled look. 

“I wanted to surprise you.” Cas said, wandering back into the kitchen as he knew the timer was set to go off at any moment. 

Dean walked into the kitchen behind him and noticed the black mound sitting on the counter. “What the hell is that?”

“A mistake.” Cas said, opening the oven and checking to make sure the pie hadn’t spontaneously erupted into flames. 

“Is that pie I smell?” Dean asked, heading to the fridge and grabbing a beer. 

“It is. Apple, your favorite if I remember correctly.” Cas decided that the pie had cooked enough and took it out of the oven, placing it on the counter next to the first attempt. 

Dean took a drink and took a long look at Cas. “Why are you all of the sudden baking me pies?” 

“I missed you.” Cas shrugged his shoulders and started to clean up some of the mess he had made. Dean placed the bottle on the counter and walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. 

“I missed you too. Everything okay with the upstairs family?” 

“It is now. They won’t be calling on me anymore, not unless it is vital I return.” 

“Good.” Dean nuzzled into Cas’ neck. 

“Aren’t you going to eat the pie?” Cas asked as Dean began kissing down his neckline. 

“I think it’s too hot to eat right now. Besides I haven’t seen you in a week.” Cas could feel his knees buckling and something in the pit of his stomach telling him to let the pie go and just give in. 

He turned around quickly so that they were facing each other. They stood in close proximity, their eyes locked and their bodies touching. He just wanted to touch, to touch all the part of Dean that he had missed while he had been away. He ran his fingers across Dean’s jaw, tracing his body down his neck and onto his chest. He knew where the scars were, his hands had trailed this body time and time again. He drew circles on his skin through the fabric of his shirt. Dean was a book that Cas had read before, words that he himself had helped write, and yet he knew there were still pages he needed to explore. Dean was right, the pie was definitely too hot to eat right now.


End file.
